I’m a sticky note
You’re continually re-sticking
‘Cause damn it, you know I’m worth it.
I’m such a pretty color,
With doodles and sayings
that alleviate
Some kind of effortless pain
You carry with you when I’m not looking.

for my love

Remember when we went to that concert
And we found a bird’s wing in the middle of State Street?
Remember the line and the sweat and the grim
Because we wanted to get such great seats?
It was so loud, I brought ear plugs, but I couldn’t hear
The vocals.
You would text on your phone questions and show them to me.
You knew I was sick, I was hot and thirsty,
So at 10:30 you said you wanted to leave.
(I knew you were lying but that’s why I love you;
You always seem to know just what I need).
I quite like being old with you, our 9 o’clock curfew
The pains that we’ve gone through.
Let them have their youth, their damn hysteria,
Tragic, dramatic capriciousness.
I’m just fine laying in bed before it’s dark out.
Because bedrooms aren’t just for sleeping.

Precipice.
That some great explosion
Took over the sky this morning.
And there were some golden clouds in the east;
Pink in the west;
Grey where they met in the center,
Directly above the highway heading north.
That sometimes I almost get so distracted by the colors
Or the geese, or the rain,
That driving is really the last thing that concerns me.
I’ve got bloody Kleenex around the house
Reminding me I’m human, reminding me I am present.
Otherwise I might forget, you know?
You don’t know.

That’s why they have medicine for this.

I make the sheets move up and down.
Down and up.
Is that the definition of existence?
Even when I’m disappearing,
There they go,
Down and up, up and down.
They all say “You complete me”
But if hollow when found,
We’re really still just missing pieces.

I’m going to evaporate now.
Turn into the acid rain that
Pretends to make you clean.
Up
then
down
.

You are nearly gone now.
Only secretly lingering
In the northern sides of my heart,
Like April’s final snow.
It’s the damaged ones that cause
All the damage.
Some sort of entitlement;
Some sort of mad desire for consideration.
You are merely
Dandelion wishes
Floating on some awful wind
That messes my hair.

I am the chaff left
From life’s winnowing.
The piece that drifts,
You are constantly ruining.

Would you prefer me in a gingham dress?
Would you prefer me with scrapes on my knees?
Sneezing, with a hammock
Between two tress?
Feet tied in fishing line, with tad poles in buckets;
And one giant redwood floating in seas?